


Absence and Return

by Silent_So_Long



Series: trope_bingo round five [2]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4340159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and a welcome reunion</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence and Return

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ‘reunion’ square on my trope bingo card. This was also inspired by a recent dream that I had, in which Paul was in the laundry room, and Richard was the one returning from a trip away from home. Considering I’ve already written [a reunion fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4013506) involving Richard’s return home from a prolonged absence, I merely reversed the roles to change it up a bit. =D Yiss. Indeed.

Richard stood alone before the beaten-up washing machine which stood in the cluttered basement, hands filled with a week’s worth of dirty laundry; the room felt oppressively humid with the remnants of the day’s heat. He knew that by the time the evening was out, the storm that had been threatening all afternoon would break and the black clouds that had rolled steadily and inexorably across the sky form the horizon would dump their promised burden of rain upon Berlin streets. He sighed and shovelled the last items into the washing machine, before he slammed the door shut; the sharp sound ricocheted slightly from the walls, only slightly deadened by the amount of junk that surrounded him; he stopped momentarily to massage his temples, as he tried to ignore the detritus of so many people’s lives that had been carelessly piled around him. 

He massaged his temples viciously again, and tried to wish away the migraine that was threatening; he promised himself a cold drink and a couple of aspirin upon his return to the apartment he usually shared with Paul. Diligently he poured the fabric conditioner and laundry liquid into their corresponding compartments in the washing machine’s little drawer before he slid the whole thing home with a hefty little snick. He bent and squinted at the dial, twisting it this way and that until he’d was satisfied that he’d selected the right wash programme.

He sighed again; it was usually Paul’s job to look after the laundry, yet Richard's partner was currently visiting a beloved aunt currently ensonced in a Karlsburg hospital; said aunt had been on holiday and had been involved in an accident. Paul, and his closest family, had been at her bedside for the past week, since the accident had happened; as far as Richard knew it, the aunt still wasn’t quite out of the woods, yet her condition was stable enough to allow Paul to return home and get some much needed rest for himself. 

Richard felt a deep ache in his chest when he thought of Paul; even though he knew that it was important for his partner to by his aunt’s side, he still missed the other man when he wasn't there. It was only then that Richard realized that he could count on one hand just how many times they’d been parted from one another over the past five years alone. He missed Paul’s cheeky smile, his infectious laughter, and the way that his body felt, warm and real and loving alongside his. 

The ache in his chest deepened and Richard turned sadly away from the washing machine to head back upstairs to his empty apartment; he knew that the wash cycle had to run for at least an hour and a half before its conclusion and as such, there was no reason for him to hang around in the dusty basement, for longer than he really needed to. Even so, Richard didn’t relish the idea of climbing the seven flights of stairs back to the apartment; the lift was out of order again, waiting to be fixed for what seemed the umpteenth time in a month. Once again, Richard promised himself that he would invest in a washing machine and drier for both himself and Paul; that way, they would not have to rely on the machines that were meant for the apartment block’s communal use. It also meant that he could avoid knocking his head on the bike that someone always insisted on hanging from the ceiling, or tripping over the skateboard invariably lying around upon the floor. 

A sound came from nearby, as of a shoe scraping lightly against the concrete stairs that led down into the basement; Richard stiffened slightly and listened. It seemed as though he wasn’t as alone as he’d first thought. He groaned softly to himself; he wondered which neighbour it would turn out to be this time and how long he would have to stand in the clutter filled basement listening to all the latest gossip. Even though most of the other residents of their apartment block were friendly enough, most of them were great talkers, and Richard, for one, often couldn’t get away quick enough; that night would prove to be no different, when all he wanted to do was to have a quiet drink and reflect on the absence of Paul for a while.

He looked up, tried to see through the gloom that permeated the place, to try and determine which neighbour it was that was likely to annoy him this time. He hoped it wasn’t batty Frau Liebstromm, who insisted on regaling him with tales of her stick insects every time that they met. He caught sight of a familiar pair of hefty boots in the gloom, black jeans tucked scruffily into the top of them, before Richard was suddenly moving forward, hope filling his chest at the thought that it might be Paul.

His hopes were met with the smiling face of Paul himself, eyes hooded and sad and tired despite the grin that wrinkled his nose into so many cute little lines. Richard all but knocked Paul from his feet by the ferocity of the hug that he assailed his partner with, arms roughly embracing the slightly smaller man, mouth pressing rough, uncoordinated kisses against Paul’s cheeks and mouth. Paul was laughing by the time that Richard pulled away far enough to allow both of them to breathe, before his hand rose to briefly lay against Richard's slightly stubbled cheek. 

“I take it you’re pleased to see me, Reesh,” he said, but there was a certain teasing fondness in his eyes and smile that Richard had missed in his absence. 

“Not in the slightest,” Richard said, with a self-deprecating snort that sent Paul into sudden laughter again.

“Liar,” Paul said, affectionately, even as he rubbed the pad of one thumb over the stubble that graced Richard's chin. “Looks like someone needs a shave. I hope you’ve been looking after yourself while I’ve been gone.”

“It’s only been a week, Paul,” Richard countered, a little defensively. “How much trouble could I really get into, in that time?” 

“Well, you haven’t shaved in at least three of those days,” Paul pointed out. “That’s not like you.”

Richard grunted at that, before he sighed.

“I missed you, Paulchen,” he said. “I hate it when you’re gone.”

“I know, liebchen, but it couldn’t be helped this time, could it?” Paul replied, and there was a certain sadness to the cast of his gaze that immediately made Richard feel guilty. “I would have come home sooner, but my flight was delayed by bad weather. I couldn‘t even ring you to tell you about the delay.”

“Never mind, Paul; you’re here now and that’s all that matters. How’s your aunt?” he askew, feeling ever more guilty for not having asked that of the other man before. 

He’d been too swept away by seeing Paul again, that all thoughts of why Paul had been kept from his side had been momentarily swept from his mind,. 

“No change from my last update. She's stable, at least,” Paul replied, with a brave smile. “Out of the woods, and will be well on her way to recovery soon. My mum promised to keep me updated.”

“That’s good,” Richard said, as he tried a smile for Paul’s benefit. 

It seemed to work, for Paul returned it, and the grin that he gave was his usual one, unaffected and bright, all bright teeth and eyes all but disappearing in a mass of wrinkles. Richard leant in again and dotted brief kisses against the corners of Paul’s mouth, until Paul turned into him and his lips fumbled against Richard’s own until they locked properly, messily. Paul broke away first before he glanced around the room, and huffed out a disconcerted sigh.

“I can see this place is as tidy as ever,” he said, with a roll of his eyes and a disgruntled little huff.

“Well, you’ve only been gone a few days, Paul,” Richard pointed out, with a rough laugh. “It can’t change that much.” 

“It seems longer,” Paul said, as his expression turned somber, and serious. 

Richard didn’t know what to say to that, so he merely stared at Paul in uncomfortable silence, blinking slowly as he tried to think of something comforting to say. Paul saved him from potentially embarrassing himself by speaking first, a tentative grin upon his face. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve still got some of that lovely coffee upstairs, have you?” he asked, hopefully. 

“I’ve barely touched it," Richard promised him, even as he gestured for Paul to follow him up the stairs. “I saved it for your return.”

“You’re so sweet to me, sometimes, Reesh,” Paul said, as he followed Richard towards their apartment.

“Only sometimes? You wound me, Paul, you really do,” Richard replied, as he threw a pout over his shoulder at the other man. “I’m gonna make you pay for that, I hope you realize.”

The only response he received was soft laughter and the sudden warm weight of an apologetic hand upon his back.

“I’ll be extra attentive in bed tonight, if that makes you feel better,” Paul said, tone pitched low and soft for optimised privacy. 

“I’ll hold you to that, Paulchen. I promise to let you do whatever you want with me, too,” Richard said, pout suddenly replaced by a wicked grin. “Random question, but how did you know I was in the basement, anyway?” 

“I already tried the apartment, and you weren’t there,” Paul explained. “I knew you weren’t out, because your car keys were still hanging in their usual place. The laundry room seemed the most logical place, whilst it’s raining.” 

“It’s raining?” Richard asked, in surprise.

“The proverbial cats and dogs,” Paul said, before he pointed towards the door to their apartment. “Ah, here we are, at last.” 

Richard pulled his keys from his pocket with soft jangling, chiming sounds, before he inserted the correct one into the lock; he felt the warmth of Paul’s body pressing up against his back, as the other man gave him an awkward hug from behind, strong hands clasped gently against Richard’s abdomen. Richard sighed at the contact, and smiled when he felt the warm brush of Paul’s lips against the exposed line of the nape of his neck, a gesture which was repeated swiftly. Richard fumbled with the lock, soon distracted still further by Paul pushing his hand up beneath the cover of Richard's t shirt, fingers splaying and caressing over the broad expanse of Richard's chest.

“Jesus, Paul,” Richard murmured, as he struggled the keys back in the lock again. “Fucking distracting, is what you are.”

“That’s the intention, darling,” Paul laughed against his neck, breath warm and tickling against Richard’s skin.

Richard shivered pleasurably, and managed to finally unlock the door, pushing the wooden barrier open swiftly, before he stumbled inside, Paul a heavy trapping weight against his back. Richard turned awkwardly, before Paul stepped a small pace away to allow Richard to lock the door again. Richard turned, raised both hands before he cupped Paul’s face with both palms framing the other man’s cheeks. Richard leant in, a soft smile curving his lips, before he paused an inch in front of Paul’s mouth. Paul was smiling when he closed the remaining distance between them, lips soon moulding against Richard's own. Richard sighed into the kiss, eyes closing tightly as he lost himself to the feel of the other man pliant and warm and desperately real against him.

Richard felt arousal flame through the lower half of his abdomen, erection soon beginning to push at the front of his boxers as Paul snuggled closer; Richard could feel that Paul was half-hard himself, even through the combined trapping weight of two pairs of jeans. Richard eased away from the kiss and swore gently under his breath, as he rested his forehead against Paul’s own, breath mingling hot and wet with the other man’s.

“I missed you,” Richard said, softly into the expectant silence that hung between them.

“I missed you, too,” Paul said. “I’m home now, though, and the crisis is mostly over, fortunately.”

“Fortunately,” Richard agreed, as his fingers explored the familiar planes of Paul’s face. “D’you still want coffee?” 

“After,” Paul said, meaningfully, as he pressed his palm suggestively against Richard’s partial erection. “There’s something else I want more right now.” 

“Or someone,” Richard smiled, as his eyes partially closed in pleasure when Paul began applying gentle pressure against his denim clad cock.

His breathing deepened and he pushed his hips harder against Paul’s palm when the other man didn’t bear down hard enough; he felt the warmth of Paul’s sudden laughter against his cheek, before it was replaced by a sudden swift kiss against his mouth.

“Impatient,” Paul murmured against him.

“Always,” Richard said. “For you.”

Paul laughed again, lowly, teasingly, before Richard was rewarded with another swift, soft kiss. Richard was taken by the hand into the bedroom, a promise darkly held in Paul’s eyes. 

“Don’t forget your promise,” Paul said.

Richard couldn’t think suddenly; his mind was wiped blank by the amount of thoughts that were dirtily directed towards the other man. 

“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want with you,” Paul reminded him, but it didn’t look as though he minded doing so.

Richard’s nod was sudden, eager, breath catching and wheezing in his throat suddenly and Paul's grin was mischievously bright at that. Richard crowded into Paul, hands rising to slowly strip the other man of his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons, whilst he stole kisses directly from Paul’s mouth. He hummed in pleasure against Paul’s lips when the other man reached down to palm Richard's erection again through the covering of his jeans, before Paul pulled away far enough to strip his shirt from his body, allowing the material to flow freely to the floor. Richard reached out, ran warm hands over Paul’s shoulders, ran fingers over his tattoos and further down to caress the other man’s nipples; Paul’s eyes were closed, lips parted as Richard moved those caresses further down, and hooked fingers in his belt, undoing it hastily, before he unbuttoned Paul’s jeans. 

Paul was fully hard by the time that Richard had stripped him from his jeans and underwear, chest rising and falling erratically as he watched Richard undress. Richard enjoyed the way that Paul’s eyes covetously roved over his body, hands twitching by Paul's sides as though the other man was barely restraining himself from reaching out to touch him. Richard suddenly wanted those hands upon him, wanted Paul to run lustful fingers over his body, to touch him, to caress him, to bring him into full climax with his hands, his fingers, his mouth. 

Richard stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed when he felt the soft collide of it against the back of his legs; he awkwardly shimmied over the covers, until he was able to lay down fully, head laying neatly against the pillows. He began stroking himself as he watched the confident way that Paul moved about the room, collecting condoms and lube and a few items that Paul shielded with his body with accompanying dirty chuckles. 

Richard watched as Paul scrambled up onto the bed between his legs, before he realized what it was that Paul had collected; the other man had brought a few silk scarves from somewhere. Richard barely remembered using them many months ago yet they’d lain forgotten, abandoned since then. A surge of lust rocketed through his body at the thought of it; the last time that they’d been used, Paul had been wearing them, tied around his wrists and over his eyes. Richard remembered how satisfying that night’s love-making had been and he wondered then why they had not utilised the scarves since then.

He raised his hands obediently, without prompting from Paul, before he curled his fingers around the bars of the headboard. Paul grinned, eyebrows raised over smiling eyes.

“Good boy, Reesh,” he said, appreciatively. “Eager little pet, aren’t we?”

Richard had lost his voice by then so he was reduced to doing nothing more than nodding eagerly at Paul; he felt the brush of the other man’s fingers against his skin, the hard jut of Paul’s cock against his side when the other man laid partially atop him. Paul tied the knots confidently around headboard and wrists both and Richard wondered then if Paul had been practicing. Richard didn’t have the time to ask for then Paul draped the last scarf around Richard’s eyes, the material soft and silken and dark against his eyes.

“Lift your head, darling,” Paul said, softly and Richard immediately obeyed. “Good boy, Reesh.”

Richard felt another surge of lust racing through his body at the praise; he suddenly hoped that he would continue pleasing Paul, would continue being the eternal good boy, and beloved pet for Paul’s benefit.

“Not too tight?” Paul asked, genuine concern in his tone as he touched the scarves at Richard’s wrists and then his eyes. “Are you comfortable, darling?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Richard managed to force out, lust deepening his voice and earning him a laughing kiss against his mouth.,  


“Good, darling,” Paul said. “Good boy. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Richard said, immediately without hesitation.

“Good. Any time you want to stop, don’t hesitate to tell me,” Paul said, and again there was that concern in his tone. “If I hurt you - “

“You won’t,” Richard said, confidently.

He trusted Paul not to hurt him, never to go so far as to do anything wrong. Paul was ever the attentive lover in bed, always seemed to know just which boundaries he shouldn't cross and which moves were good without being told. Richard shifted, and he didn’t have to wait long before he felt the first press of Paul’s mouth against his shoulder, pressing kisses down his torso, tongue playing wetly with his nipples along the way. Richard waited, teeth clenched as Paul finally reached his cock and he felt the hot wet slide of Paul’s mouth over the length of him. Richard swore, voice deep and Paul, unseen, began to pleasure him, mouth and tongue hot and wet and slick against him. Richard kept swearing through it all, which seemed to amuse Paul; Richard could feel the rumbles of Paul’s laughter from where his mouth connected solidly with his cock.

Paul pulled away before Richard could come and Richard heard the pop of the lube bottle; he waited and hissed at the first intrusion of slick finger against his entrance, soon morphing into a satisfied sigh when the discomfort ebbed and fled away. Paul’s fingers slid away, soon replaced by the thicker feel of Paul’s cock nudging at his entrance; Paul’s sudden groan as he slowly guided himself into Richard was deep and dark, heard but not seen. Richard wished then that he could Paul, see the aroused look in his lover’s eyes, see the way that Paul came apart on climax. He suddenly pleaded, words turning incoherent when Paul began to thrust into him, soon drowned out by lustful groans as Paul began to rock into him, hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises. Richard could hear Paul’s aroused groans, mingled with heavy breathing, and feel the erratic way that his lover was thrusting into him, before the other man slowed almost to a halt.

“Lift your legs,” Paul said, a clear command in his tone.

It took a moment for Richard's brain to make sense of the words and Paul’s hand when it came was a slap against his side.

“I said lift your legs,” Paul said. “Higher.”

Richard did so, rested his heels higher against Paul’s back and was rewarded with another rolling thrust from Paul’s hips which sent a bright rill of pleasure coursing flames through his body at the new, and perfect angle.

“Oh fuck, Paul,” Richard suddenly cursed. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Paul murmured, laughter bubbling behind his arousal as he began thrusting into Richard again, harder, deeper, that time.

Richard’s words were lost to incoherency again, yet Paul’s name was the only thing that he could summon in amongst the babble; Paul’s groans were deep and aroused, louder now and Richard twisted his hands amongst the scarves. He wished he could touch Paul, or at worst, touch himself; his cock was aching and he wanted to come and then he did, spilled out over them both in heated waves and then Paul was coming also, loud cries of Richard’s name falling over him in amidst declarations of desperate love. Richard could feel the erratic thrusts of Paul's hips as the other man rode out the last of his orgasm, before Paul pulled away, hands immediately skimming over Richard’s body in open, lustful, appreciative caresses.

“Good boy, Reesh, such a lovely boy,” Paul murmured and Richard grinned, arched up into Paul’s touch appreciatively. “I didn’t hurt you, my love?”

“Oh, no,” Richard said, tone still dark with remnants of lust. “Oh, fuck, no.” 

Paul pressed kisses against Richard's jaw before he replied.

“Good,” he murmured, before he reached up to finally untie the scarf that obscured Richard's vision.

Paul looked as sated and as well-fucked as Richard had imagined, only better and Richard bent his head, lips pursed in a clear demand for kisses, which Paul soon rewarded him with, laughingly.

“You’re gorgeous,” Richard murmured, against Paul's mouth. “Perfect.” 

“As are you, my love,” Paul murmured, back as he finally released Richard's hands from the trapping scarves. 

They lay in silence for a while, yet Paul’s hands never strayed far from Richard's body; Richard was content to hold Paul in a clear and silent snuggle, mouths occasionally meeting in chuffing kisses. Paul smiled at Richard in the darkness of their room, but he didn‘t break the companionable silence that hung between them. 

“Why didn’t we use the scarves before?” Richard asked, finally. “I’d quite forgotten them.”

“So did I, until the other day,” Paul said, with a laugh. “I found them beneath the bed. They must have fallen there last time that we used them.”

“Hmmm,” Richard said. “We should use them again.”

“We should,” Paul agreed, easily. 

“Maybe I should use them on you, again, next time, though,” Richard said, with an arch lift of his eyebrow. 

“Hmm,” Paul agreed, contentedly. “Sounds like a good idea, to me.”

Richard merely smiled, before he pressed a kiss against Paul's mouth gently.


End file.
